Things are not summery here at the moment. But I am still being judgy.
Just as a quick update, I am studying, trying to catch up from being behind when my family was here. it is really hard to go not only hardcore studying, but extra hardcore, something of which I never had to begin with EVER. I cried last night and this morning. Everyone here is stressed out. I'm sure the dog can sense it. I can't hardly stand it anymore.
The funeral was yesterday. Me, BC, and my Dad went. We were running late, of course, thanks to me. I swear I can get up a thousand hours early, stay up all night, and will still be running behind. Anyway, we straight up got pulled over by a state trooper. And a big scary one in an unmarked car. Ya'll we were in the middle of NOWHERE. Even worse, we got backwards pulled over. Like, he was in front of us, turned on his lights, and waived us ahead. I wasn't driving, my Dad was, but we were in my car. Of course, I feel terrible, bc we wouldn't be running late if it wasn't for me. I offered to pay as much of the ticket that I could, since it was my fault. Luckily, we were all dressed up and my Dad told the guy we were trying to get to his stepfathers funeral in the town literally 5-ish minutes away. He seemed unimpressed, walked to his car, and came back with a stack of papers. Thankfully, he gave us a warning! There were lots of prayers of thanksgiving after that. In good state trooper fashion, we were going, according to him, 60 in a 45. But in the real world, we were actually going 45ish, considering we were coming around a curve on the tiniest back-road ever. We all know how that goes.
On to the funeral--we got there like 1 minute late, right as they were walking out the family (whoops). Apparently I have like 4 step-cousins I know nothing about. Well, maybe more than that because my step-grandfathers kids have all been divorced and remarried, so I guess it runs in the family? I honestly have no idea if my Dad spoke to his step-siblings yesterday. It was a very odd thing to experience. Clearly, we were there for my grandmother. And she wasn't even there. It would have been too emotional (and it was way hot outside) for her to suffer through. Plus, she probably wouldn't understand with the Alzheimer's and Xanax. So maybe we were there more for my Dad's sisters. I don't know. Either way, it was nice to see everyone again. Even if under crappy circumstances.
I didn't cry. Well, I teared up during the playing of Taps, but who doesn't. I don't think my Dad was upset. The whole time at the service they kept talking about what a "family man" he was, how caring and compassionate he was, how much he loved his family, etc. I just sat there thinking we might have showed up to the wrong funeral. Or maybe the preacher brought the wrong notes. Or maybe the old guy the preacher said he talked to wasn't my step-grandfather, but someone else. Maybe he was talking to my step-grandfathers actual kids and grandkids 'cause he sure wasn't talking to us. Either way, it was odd.
We left there and went to the burial. Apparently my step-grandfather was in the Navy, which I never knew, so they played Taps and did the folding of the flag, which was really neat to see. I've always wondered how they did that so nicely. Also, Taps was played from a little boombox inside the bugle. They hardly ever actually play it anymore because no one knows how to the play the bugle! Anybody know that? It was definitely a first for me. After that the little church had a luncheon for us, put on by the ladies' bereavement group volunteers. The food was crazy delicious (chicken fingers, tons of peas and butter beans, squash casserole, yeast rolls, ham, YUM). My grandmother was there and we spent some time with her. She is so old and feeble. My anger towards her is long gone. Now I just have warm squishies in my heart. My Dad said when we left, she asked him to stay with her. Apparently she talks a lot about my Dad. I kinda wonder if she has any regrets? I don't know...
One of my grandmothers sisters was there with her husband. We got caught up on her grandson Brian, my second-ish cousin?? I have no idea how to calculate that stuff. Anyway, he apparently somehow came down with Lupus at age 29. Brian had some joint pain, and that was it, before the disease completely attacked him out of nowhere. After spending almost a year in the hospital in various forms, he is now blind and has little to no short term memory. He has lesions on his brain that make him have constant noise in his head. HIs second child was born right before everything happened and he has no memory of this child at all. He doesn't remember what anyone looks like. For a long time he had a hard time remembering he was married and had one child, much less a second. His wife took on a job as a LPN to carry them with insurance and to better care for him. He was so incredibly sick, and still is, and I can't imagine what their lives are like now.
So as I sit here, trying to drag myself through this bar junk, I am reminded of not only how precious life it, but how it can change in an instant. I am thankful for a functioning (although flabby) body, that does have short-term memory (although it feels like sometimes I don't). I am thankful for a husband who works hard and loves me and doesn't cheat on me or do things to hurt our family. I am thankful for a Dad who showed me how to forgive, even when something deeply effects you at difficult points in your life. I am thankful for a sweet puppy who is giving me an incredible primer in patience. And, although I know I probably don't portray it very well, I am eternally thankful for a God who has blessed me beyond measure with this life and forgiven me every step of the way.